


Earth-Bound, Moon-Bright

by ysse_writes



Category: Boku no Chikyuu wo Mamotte | Please Save My Earth
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-09
Updated: 2011-09-09
Packaged: 2017-10-23 14:10:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ysse_writes/pseuds/ysse_writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Issei dreams of the past. Enju sees the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Earth-Bound, Moon-Bright

**You have to forget him.  That’s all there is to it.**

 Heartbroken acceptance.  Tearful resolution.  **What now?**   Jinpachi had been the only man, the only _one._   Never anyone else, man or woman.  Always Jinpachi.  Always Gyokuran.

Moon-bright, tears fell from cheeks that were smooth, rounded.  Not sharp and angular, not by a long shot.  **I should have been born a girl...**   How many times had that thought crossed his mind – tentative, shy, fearing rejection even from himself.  Even before he had known...  Dear Sarjilim, how could he have known?

He cringed as he recalled those fantasies.  How his courage, stored through the months till they achieved critical mass, would be rewarded.  How Jinpachi’s eyes would widen, stare into his as if seeing him for the first time.  “Issei,” he’d whisper, soft, wondering, breath catching.  Then he would smile, and the second kiss would be his, all his.  His to claim, his to give. 

A joke.  On him.

He lay down on the bed, burying his face into his pillow, seeking comfort there.  He wondered if he should have asked Sakura to stay, allowed her to try to cheer him up, let her try to distract him from the bleakness of his future.

The thought of Sakura birthed a smile.  Frail, shaky, but it was a smile all the same. Sakura.  So strong.  So certain of what should be or should not be.  Enju had been the same. Despite everything he was grateful for that.  For Enju's strength, for her woman’s heart.  A man’s heart would have shattered.  Simply a man, he would have crumbled.

It had taken time, this understanding, this acceptance.  _**I'm not Enju!  I'm Issei!  Issei!  My life is my own!**   _How silly those protestations seemed now.  How useless.  He was who he was, Enju and Issei and the Universe, all packed and compacted into this tiny human body.  And it _was_  tiny, this body.  He sometimes wondered how so many memories, how so much pain and promise could be contained in such a small vessel, in such a small mind.

Enju and Gyokuran.  Issei and Jinpachi.  Always.  Forever. 

He looked at the moon.  It had never seemed farther away. 

If he could turn back time, would he have played it differently? Stayed safe, allowed Jinpachi to babble on about his feelings for Alice, for Moukuren?  But his awakening had robbed him of that ability; that shallow, listening-with-half-an-ear knack that all human men possessed.  Jinpachi still owned it – he was still all man.  Insensitive, impervious, uncaring.  Jinpachi was still earth-bound.  Earth-bound, when he, Issei,  had become moon-bright.

Earth-bound Jinpachi.  How strange, how _idiotic,_  that he could so readily accept the idea of a past life, of aliens living on the moon.  That he could embrace the idea that once he’d been Gyokuran, that Issei had been Enju, and that Alice had been Moukuren, and yet he not could accept...  could not understand...

If he could understand how the soul survived, how could he dismiss the heart?

**A joke.  A bad joke.  Just forget it.**

Or was he the one who refused to understand?  That Jinpachi did not have a problem with his sexuality, but, in fact, his  _love?_   They – Enju and Gyokuran – had been lovers.  Issei knew beyond the shadow of any doubt that Enju had loved Gyokuran, but he was less certain of Gyokuran’s feelings.

He wanted to laugh.  **Less certain, my ass.**   Gyokuran had never said he loved Enju.  He'd loved Moukuren.  Enju had simply been...  convenient.  Enju had loved Gyokuran despite that. Stuck on the moon, seven people, three women, four men...  The thought was terrible, but almost forgivable.  

**And yet, in this new world, with its billions of inhabitants, why still you?  Why still us?**

Memories of a dead woman, is that all this is?

 

He closed his eyes, exhausted.  He wanted to sleep, to forget about Jinpachi and Gyokuran, about dead moon-women and impossible loves.  What good would it do him, anyway? 

**You’ll just have to forget him, that’s all,**  he told himself, resolutely.  **Just move on.**  

**Go to sleep,**   he ordered himself, trying to relax,  to let his thoughts fade into a bright white nothing.  **You’ll feel better tomorrow.**

As he drifted off into unconsciousness, somewhere inside him, a dead moon-woman laughed. **Silly child.  If death didn’t free you, what makes you think sleep will...?**

 

They were seated on the couch of her small living space.  She had been comparing similarities in their beliefs and in the pagan religions of earth, and Jinpachi had offered to help her with her research.  But of course it hadn’t been long before he started to talk about his feelings for Moukuren.  She had tried to halt his ramblings, hinting broadly that she needed to work, but he’d paid no attention.  He’d gone on to list Moukuren’s virtues while bemoaning his lot.

“I swear, Jinpachi,” she finally snapped, throwing the printouts she’d been studying on the table.  She was usually a quiet, timid person but she’d had enough.  Her patience, tested through months of silence and self-sacrifice, had reached its absolute limit. “One more word and I won’t be responsible for my actions!”

“But…”

“Argh -- you asked for it!”

For once, she went with the urge, pulling his face towards hers and planting the hottest, most passionate kiss she could manage under the circumstances firmly on his lips.




Startled, he tried to move back, his mouth opening on a protest.  Taking advantage, she swept in, her blood boiling with more than anger.  She placed everything she had in that kiss, willing him to understand.  To respond.

He didn’t.  He simply sat there, taking it, as if her kiss was some horrible ordeal he had resigned himself to. 

I...  I should have tried it before.”




Gyokuran simply stared at her, his face was almost as pale as hers, his eyes unreadable.  "Enju..."

“It was a joke,” she tried to explain, as he continued to stare at her..  “A bad one.” Panic-stricken and horrified, she stood up to leave.  To run.  To hide.  He caught her hand in his, halting her escape.  She struggled briefly then stood still, her face averted.  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He stood up, walked around so he was facing her.  "Look at me," he ordered softly, even as his hand touched her cheek.  "Don't apologize.  I…  I liked it."

Her eyes flew to his.  "You did?"  she gasped, almost squeaked. 

He nodded solemnly.  "Yeah.  Do it again."

He was still smiling when their lips met again.




She didn’t pause to wonder or question.  Without hesitation, her arms moved of their own accord, wrapping themselves around his neck, pressing her body against his.  **Yes, oh yes!**   His hands were around her waist, clutching at the cloth around her hips.   He kissed her hungrily, as if he couldn’t get enough.

 Somehow, they ended back on the couch, Jinpachi pressing her down on its soft cushions.  His mouth was now on her shoulder, on her neck, inhaling her scent, tasting her skin, while her hands roamed restlessly, tangling in his hair, clutching at his back.

**Skin,**  she thought, frustratedly, almost desperately.  **I want to feel him.**

Her hands found his collar, began to work towards freeing him from its confines.  His hands closed around hers.  To help, she thought, and  was totally disoriented to realize that he was not, and that he’d stopped kissing her.  She groaned, protesting, clutching at his arms as he moved away.

“I’m sorry, Enju,” he whispered, hoarsely.  “This shouldn’t have happened.”

“What shouldn’t have happened?” she whispered back, her voice almost failing her.  “Nothing’s happened yet.”

“I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you,” he answered, sitting up and threading his fingers through his hair.  “I’m sorry.  It’s just that...  We’ve been on this moon so long...”  He looked at her, his eyes filled with embarrassment.  “It’s been... lonely.  But that’s no reason to...  to...”

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, to hug or slap him. **I’m here, you asshole,**  she thought, having picked up some contemporary terran terms in the course of her studies.  **You think you’re lonely?**   Only Gyokuran’s tone, sincere and intent, stopped her from acting on any of those instincts.

Despite everything, despite all the pain he’d caused her, Gyokuran was a gentleman.  That was part of his problem.  He wouldn’t take advantage of her, and he wouldn’t betray Shion by going after Moukuren when the two were already engaged.  So where did that leave him?  Or her?

Instead, she sat up  and took his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her.  “You’re not the only one,” she informed him, gently,  “who's been lonely.”

His eyes flared.  “But...”

“Maybe,” she ventured,  “maybe we don’t have to be lonely tonight.”




“Enju...”

“Just let it happen.”




There was a rightness to the feeling, a sense of déjà vu, as if she had somehow managed to record this moment and was now replaying it, for the hundredth time. 

“I feel like we’ve done this before,” he whispered, wonderingly, echoing her thoughts. 

“Have we?” she asked, more interested in the feelings he was invoking within her than in that vague uneasiness.  The reality was Gyokuran, his hands on her, his body preparing to give to her.

And them.




Beneath his hands she blossomed, like one of Moukuren’s plants.  Every caress was a drop of rain, every kiss was a ray of light.  These she took into herself, absorbing them, till she was filled to overflowing. Till she burned, till she glowed, moon-bright.

Then, suddenly, an urgency, totally discrete from the need of her body seized her.

“Gyokuran,” she whispered, urgently, capturing his face in her hands, to look into his eyes once more.

 

“What is it?” he asked, worriedly, struggling to keep his impatience in check.  “Did I hurt you?”

“Gyokuran, say my name.”

“What?”

“Say my name.  Please.”

He looked at her, confused.  "Enju..." 

She shook her head.  "The other one.  Say it," she said, almost pleading.  "Just once.  Just once, Jinpachi.  I'll never ask again."  She used that name deliberately, so he’d know what she was asking.

He spoke slowly, uncertainly,  as if he was only now discovering he could speak.  "Is...  Issei."

She smiled, feeling tears, moon-bright, pool in her eyes.  And then he kissed her again, bringing his body to hers, into hers, and there was no more need for words.  No more need for tears.

 

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes.  He was alone, but he could still feel Gyokuran’s arms around him.  A few moments later, the phone rang. 

**Dammit, Jinpachi, can't you let me enjoy this a while longer?**

The feel of Gyokuran's hands, the taste of his kiss. His heat, his strength.  Issei wanted to stay on the moon and never wake up.

But even in the moonlight, the memories were rapidly receding, like a dream. Or was the dream fading, like a memory? He didn’t care.  They were one and the same to him.  Both fleeting, both impossible to hold on to.

The answering machine picked up the call. "Issei, are you there? I know it's late... Did you --? Nevermind. Forget it. I hope you feel better soon. I'll see you in school."




Jinpachi's voice sounded confused, embarrassed,  even slightly horrified.  **Earth-bound,**  Issei thought, accepting his friend’s limitations even as he mourned them.  **I’m a fool.  If you didn't love her -- sweet, generous, female Enju, -- then how could you ever love me?**

And yet he remembered one part of the dream vividly. Even more than their shared caresses, even more than the fulfillment of Enju's climax, one moment stood out like a bright point of light in the darkness. 

**Say my name, Jinpachi.**

****  
_Is...  Issei._  


"You’re a telepath,"  Daisuke had said.  "That’s why you share dreams with Jinpachi."

He sat up, knowing sleep was now beyond him, thoughts crowding his head.

A telepath, able to project dreams.  But was it possible he could do more?  Had that moment, so clear in his mind's eye,  simply been part of the dream?  Something he’d manipulated, a sleeping fantasy? Or had it been a memory, something that had really happened? 

But how could Gyokuran and Enju know about their future lives? 

It seemed impossible, a ridiculous thought.  And yet, was that so hard to believe, after all he’d already come to accept?  **Maybe the soul doesn’t just survive,**  he realized.  **Maybe the soul just is, and there’s no past, no future, simply being.**   He glanced outside the window, to the moon that still shone outside.  **And our lives are just windows, looking out into different worlds.  It’s the same earth, the same moon.  We’re just looking at them from different points of view.**

But if that were the case, did that mean that if Gyokuran had not loved Enju on the moon, he never would, in any life?  Was that Enju’s eternal destiny? To always be in love with someone who would never love her back?

Or were Buddhists right?  That souls were fated to live over and over again, till certain lessons were learned, till their mistakes were corrected.  Since they died on the moon, their lives unfulfilled, were they reborn on earth for a purpose?  Did Sarjilim send them here with a wave of her hand, saying: ‘Get it right this time, kids.  Save the earth, save yourselves, live and be happy’? 

Was this life a gift of the goddess, and if so, how many chances did they get?

He shook his head, which was starting to throb from such complicated thoughts.  He was, after all, just a high-school kid.  He wasn’t going to uncover the secrets of the Universe, sitting on his bed, angsting over an unrequited love.

So much pain this awakening had caused him, and yet, he could only believe that it all had a reason, a purpose.  He wished that Shion would show himself so he could finally know what all this commotion was all about and he’d maybe have a clue what to do. 

What he _did_  know was how he _felt._




He kept looking at the moon.  The moon -- all at once hateful and beloved, barren and yet filled with memories.  Bright, thought it only shone with reflected light. 

It should have floated free, this moon, this asteroid.  But caught, bound by the earth’s gravity, it could only circle the earth helplessly, always near, but never touching.  Like Gyokuran to Moukuren.  Like Issei to Jinpachi. 

Someday it might find the strength to break free.  Someday it may find it’s own light.  But for now it hovered there, content with its place in the sky.

It's place in the sky...

A feeling, closely akin to peace, filled him then.

Gyokuran and Enju.  Jinpachi and Issei.  Always.  Forever.

**It’s okay, Jinpachi,**  he thought.  **Tomorrow I’ll go back to school and smile at you and I’ll make sure you’re never lonely.  I’ll be your friend, your best friend.  I promise, I’ll never ask again.**

He would let Jinpachi find his own light. He would keep loving Jinpachi while letting him go to find his happiness elsewhere.  He would make him smile and hold his hand, even if he could never hold his heart.  He would be friend instead of lover, and he would watch over him like the moon watched over the earth.  He would stay as he was – moon-bright and earth-bound all at once. 

And maybe, just maybe, in the end, he would find out it wasn’t such a bad thing to be. 

 

 

THE END

Copyright [JCSA](mailto:jcsalbano@gmail.com) 2000


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